


Goddess of Sentiment

by AdornTheThrill



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Art, Cutting, Dancing, Drug Addiction, Drunk John, Drunk Sherlock, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family, Family Secrets, Forbidden Love, Friendship, Goddesses, Gods, Hades is a Good Parent, I Would Die 4 U, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Irene Adler Returns, Jealous Sherlock, John and Mary's Wedding, Love, Magic, Military, Multimedia, Music, Prince references, Purple Shirt of Sex, Romance, Sacrifice, Sentimental Sherlock, Sexual Tension, Sherlock Dances, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Friendship, Sherlock Holmes Has a Heart, Sherlock Holmes and Drug Use, Sherlock in Love, Sherlock is Married to His Work, Sherlock's First Time, Sherlock's Heart, Sherlock's Mind Palace, Sherlock's Past, Singing, Sociopathic Sherlock, Supernatural Elements, Teenlock, Temporary Amnesia, The Beautiful Ones, Tinashe, Underworld, Virgin Sherlock, purple rain - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 18:49:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6670555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdornTheThrill/pseuds/AdornTheThrill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pilar Alveston is the new girl that no one wants to be friends with. She was simply too weird for the other kids and had secrets she wasn't even aware of. To Sherlock, she was just as ordinary as the other teens in their school. Well, that's what he used to think. They never thought they would fall in love, but when they did...they fell fast and hard.</p><p>Life had other plans for them though.</p><p>They are (literally) ripped from each other when Pilar's secrets come to light. Sherlock is so devastated, he locks away his memories of Pilar in his mind palace and abandons them. After all, sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side.</p><p>Perhaps, there is a certain goddess that could change that.</p><p>---</p><p>A/N - Rated Mature for future sexual content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Persephone and Hades knew they couldn't stop running no matter what. "Almost there, little one." Persephone whispered. For the past few months, she had been carrying a baby girl in her womb and kept her pregnancy hidden from the other gods and goddesses. She and Hades knew it was for the best. They were both trapped in the Underworld and wished a different fate for their beloved daughter.

But they had been found out and Zeus was beyond furious. "Hades!" His voice boomed and lightning split the sky. He angrily chased after them in a golden chariot, the pounding of hooves creating thunder.

"Keep going! Don't look back! Do not ever look back!" Hades yelled to Persephone as he pivoted. "I will give you as much time as I can!" He began charging head-first towards his younger brother, his own night-colored chariot rising from beneath him.

When the voices had faded into nothing, Persephone slowed and wandered around the tiny American town she had entered. She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw a small, white house. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she sprinted to it. She gently placed her baby on the steps and banged on the door. "Your father and I love you very much." She whispered and kissed her baby's forehead before fading into the darkness.


	2. Consider My Offer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The singer Tinashe is how I envisioned my main character (Pilar Alveston) to look.

Seventeen Years Later

"Class, this is Ms. Alveston. She has just moved here from America." The teacher introduced Pilar to her new British classmates.

"What is she wearing?!" Some of the girls whispered. Pilar had yet to be provided with a uniform, so she threw on what was comfortable for her.

She wore a faux-leather fringe jacket over a baggy black t-shirt that fell to her knees, so she wore it like a dress. Printed on the shirt was a skeleton swallowing a human heart that was impaled on a sword. She wore ripped black, lace stockings and on her feet were a pair of black, scuffed up combat boots. Her curly, raven hair was up in a ponytail with a crimson pin-up wire headband. Her ensemble was topped off with a simple gunmetal-silver chain with a couple dog tags around her neck and silver hoop earrings large enough to fit her fist through. The looks of disgust and repulsion at the audacity of her outfit made her want to laugh. But she settled for an irritated eye roll instead, deciding that their predictable reactions weren't really much for amusement or entertainment.

The instructor cleared his throat. "Ms. Alveston, you may have a seat in the back by Mr. Holmes. Sherlock please raise your hand." No hands went up. "Now, Mr. Holmes." The teacher requested sternly with a hint of frustration.

A pale, curly-haired boy sighed in irritation and reluctantly raised his hand. Pilar shuffled awkwardly to the empty seat by him. She huffed as her heavy backpack slid off her shoulder too fast and slammed onto the desk. "Proceed." She waved to the teacher.

As the teacher continued his lecture on cellular processes, Pilar decided it was too dull to listen. She had already learned and mastered the material, so there was no point in paying attention. Her eyes began to wander and noticed no one was near her and the boy.

Her eyes rested on him and squinted in examination. He had sharp cheekbones, perfect Cupid-bow lips, and a lean figure. His beauty wasn't easy to ignore, but his air of arrogance sure helped. His eyes met hers, but she just continued staring without a hint of embarrassment due to the distraction of his bright heterochromatic eyes. "What is it?" He whispered irritatedly, pulling her from her trance-like state.

"Just trying to figure you out." Was her simple reply.

He rolled his eyes. "Well, I've already figured you out. As previously mentioned, you are from America. More specifically, California. Your family moved because your father is in the military. You don't really get along with your mother and..." His eyes trailed up and down her body, but not in a sexual way. It was simply observational. "You're a dancer. Ordinary...how boring." He finished with a dramatic eye-roll. She was undoubtedly beautiful, but still too easy to read.

"That is so dope." She complimented in awe and he looked a bit surprised. "I'm guessing that's not the usual reaction, right?"

"Correct."

"What's the normal reaction?"

"Ms. Alveston, Mr. Holmes...pay attention." Their teacher scolded before turning to the chalkboard and continuing his lesson. Pilar straightened her back and tried to focus.

She notices out of the corner of her eye Sherlock leaning slightly towards her and she can't help but to look back at him. He has a small smirk on his face and whispers, "Piss off."

\---

Lunch was hell for new kids. They were expected to pick their social label after only a few hours, most of which wasn't spent actually socializing in Pilar's case. She rolled her eyes as everyone in the cafeteria watched her carefully. She didn't like labels, but one was going to be placed on her regardless of what she did.

Something caught her eye through the giant windows showing the few picnic tables students could use. It was a beautiful pale boy all alone. She smiled and skipped outside into the gloomy English weather.

"Hello!" She said cheerily as the cold soaked into her skin. Sherlock looked up surprised. "Um... is it cool if I sit here?"

"Cool? My social standing according to these weak-minded, insecure children would indicate otherwise." He answered nonchalantly.

"Not what I meant, but I'll take it!" She plopped down in the seat across from him. "I never did introduce myself to you. Pilar Alveston." She stuck her hand out.

He shook her hand and sighed. "Sherlock Holmes. Now, what is it you want?"

"Just a place to eat lunch." She smiled and took out a plastic container of fruits from her bag.

"There are many other options." He motioned to the empty tables around them and then to the windows, where students watched them surprised. "Yet you chose to sit here, which means you want something from me. So, what is it?"

"You sure are an odd one." She giggled. "Well, if you must know, I just want a friend. I don't need a lot of fake friends that will try to pull some bullshit on me. I just need one friend that will be straightforward with me no matter what."

"What makes you so sure that I can be that friend?"

"You say whatever comes to your mind and don't hold back for the sake of saving an image."

"I am a high-functioning sociopath...being a friend isn't my area."

"I only ask for honesty and lunchtime companionship."

"You are insecure." He said definitively as though he had won an argument.

"You want a friend." She replied with the same tone.

"Oh, really?"

She nodded. "It's definitely not shyness that's holding you back though. No, you don't necessarily like people. They're too easy to read...too boring. Also, you don't really understand why people choose to be sentimental even though it seems to weaken judgment." Her eyes roamed his face and locked eyes. She gave him a sympathetic smile. "How sad it must be...the life of a high-functioning sociopath." She repacked her lunch and stood. "At least consider my offer...please." She gave him a small smile before walking away.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, but couldn't help replaying her words in his mind.

_How sad it must be...the life of a high-functioning sociopath._


	3. Must Be A Girl

Why did she want to be _his_ friend? Sherlock was confused and he didn't like it. He knew she had said it was because of his brutal honesty, but he knew there was something she wasn't telling him.

"Sherlock? Are you alright?" His mother asked, pulling him from his thoughts. The family was all seated around the dining room table, determined to have a family meal before Mycroft returned to uni that evening.

Sherlock just nodded, but his brother couldn't keep quiet. "It must be a girl." Mycroft said jokingly, but their father didn't quite pick up on it.

"A girl? Sherlock, do you...fancy this girl?" His father smirked

"No." He answered quickly.

"There is a girl!" Mycroft cried in amusement and Sherlock glared at him with all the intensity of a highly trained sniper.

"What's her name? What is she like? She must be quite bright for you to fancy her." His mother was so happy. She was worried he would be alone when he was older; that there would be no one to love him.

"Mother..." He said calmly. "I do not fancy this girl and that's it."

"But you were thinking about her, were you not?" His brother smirked.

"She is...odd."

"Why? Did she actually speak to you?" Mycroft continued to joke, but realization dawned on him when Sherlock didn't answer. "She did!" He exclaimed in surprise.

"I am going to my room. Do not bother me." Sherlock huffed and rushed into the safety of his bedroom. His mind was made up about Pilar Alveston.

\---

"You're accepting my offer because you don't find me as unintelligent and boring as everyone else, yet still consider me to be an idiot simply because you don't think I can match your intelligence?" Pilar asked.

"Precisely." Sherlock answered in irritation.

"Okay." She shrugged and popped a grape into her mouth. They sat in awkward silence for a couple minutes when a grape bounced off the middle of Sherlock's forehead. Pilar inhaled sharply. "I'm losing my touch. I was going for between the eyes." She shook her head in mock disappointment and smirked.

Sherlock couldn't help but to indulge in a smirk of his own as he snatched her container of grapes and nailed her between the eyes. "Oh, don't look so shocked. You should've seen this coming." He laughed.

She joined in before snatching back her grapes. "I've gotta admit, you're a much better shot than me."

"Of course I am!"

She rolled her eyes and hit him with another grape. "You claim so hard." She giggled at his confused face. "It's a California saying for when someone brags." He nodded in understanding. "I have a question." He made a sweeping motion with his hand, gesturing for her to proceed. "How did you know all that stuff yesterday?"

"Simple deduction. You are wearing dog tags, which is a dead giveaway that you're an army brat. You had the logo of some Los Angeles sports team drawn on the inside cover of your notebook. Most people tend to favor teams in the closest proximity to where they consider home. When I mentioned your father, your eyes lit up in pride. That means that you two must have a close relationship, yet nothing about you showed signs of affection for your mother. So obviously you don't get along."

"And the dancing?"

"Your body. It's fit, but you don't have much of the bulk that most athletes display. That means you're more graceful in your sport. Dancer."

"What genre of dance do you think I perform?"

"Ballet." He answered definitively.

"Nope." He cocked an eyebrow at her reply. "Hip-Hop. I'll give it to you though. I used to dance ballet years ago. Hip-Hop is more fun."

"How so?"

"Ballet is all about control and composure. Hip-Hop is the opposite. Although, I have blended ballet and hip-hop in a few pieces." The bell to end lunch rang. "Well, thanks for accepting my friendship. I'll see you around." She pegged him with one more grape and winked before running off to class.

Yep, definitely not boring.

\---

Three weeks later

Pilar's eyes stared blankly at a page. They were reading For Whom the Bell Tolls in her literature class. This was on her list of top favorite books and had read it close to a billion times. It didn't matter how many times she read it, she still loved it and lost herself in it. Lately it had been different though.

Her mind kept wandering to a certain curly-haired enigma. He had said yes. They were friends. They had grown extremely close rather quickly over the past few weeks. They had lunch together everday and met as often as they could between classes and before school started. And he no longer rejected her touch.

She smiled at the memory of the first time they had touched. They were seated next to each other at lunch, laughing about how they had corrected their Science instructor simultaneously. She had accidentally brushed his hand and he went silent. She apologized profusely and waited for him to respond. His mouth twitched a tiny bit, he was trying not to laugh at her explosive apologetic reaction to him. She noticed the twitch though, she always did. She had jokingly called him a few choice things and laughed, which allowed him to laugh freely again.

He had gradually gotten use to physical contact with her. Now, he would always greet her in the mornings with hug. A hug intiated by him. It always made her heart flutter. Actually, just seeing him made her heart flutter.

It still amazed her that he was so comfortable with her. From what she had picked up from others' conversations, he wasn't one for friends or even acquaintences. Yet, he was her best friend and she was his. The weird new girl was friends with the beautiful, but unapproachable Sherlock Holmes. That had sure kicked up quite some rumors from many jealous girls. He had never given any of them more than a quick-witted insult and an eye-roll.

What made her so different? Was it her genuine effort at a friendship and not a romantic relationship? Was he somehow attracted to her? Did she want a more romantic relationship? She knew the answer to that was a yes, but she couldn't risk their friendship. He'd become far too important to lose.

Pilar groaned. Her overactive mind was stressing her out, which in turn gave her a pounding headache and nausea. It also didn't help that she had missed breakfast because she woke up late.

"Is something the matter, Ms. Alveston?" Her kind literature instructor asked.

"I'm sure it's nothing, ma'am." Her instructor wasn't convinced and sent her to the school clinic. On the way, Pilar felt dizzy and all of sudden everything went black.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sherlock's PoV**

Sentiment. It is an...odd feeling. I had thought I understood what it meant, but then I met her. Pilar Alveston, my best friend.

At first, I thought she was as easy to read and as boring as everyone else, but I've realized that it fascinates me to really get to know her. The more I do, the easier her expressions are to understand. The more I delve into who she is, the more I wonder 'how could I have ever thought she was boring?' I actually like being able to read her so easily. She's so guarded and hides so much, yet she lets me catch glimpses of her secrets behind her dark irises.

I've noticed that lately she hasn't been getting enough (if any) sleep. Her bottom lip is slightly swollen from her constant biting on it. She subconsciously rubs her wrists over the too-long sleeves of her uniform blazer. Her face has started to look sallow. I worry about her constantly. She's hiding something, but this time she's shut me out.

"Mr. Holmes!" One of my incompetent instructors yells, snapping me out of my thoughts. My gaze lazily locks with his and we are caught in a stare-down. He looks away first and I smirk. He tries to regain control and turns back to me. "If you had been paying attention then-"

I cut him off. "I've been summoned to the headmaster's office." I gather my things and head towards the door, as the man splutters in irritation and surprise. "It wasn't exactly hard to figure out. Elementary actually." I motion towards the elderly woman off to the side. "Ms. Bryson, the headmaster's secretary, is in the doorway and there is a note in your hand." I say nonchalantly with an air of smugness. If Pilar was here she'd giggle at the frustration of the instructor, but then roll her eyes and comment about how showing-off is extremely annoying. Then she'd say that I "claim so hard." That is still such an odd saying.

"Um...Mr. Holmes, perhaps now isn't the best time to showcase your...talents." Ms. Bryson quickly said and took the note from the hand of the teacher, who was now red in the face, and handed it to me.

_Ms. Pilar Alveston has been rushed to the hospital. Send for Mr. Sherlock Holmes immediately._

My eyes quickly snapped up from the paper. "Take me to her! Quickly!"

\---

**Third Person PoV**

_Day 27_

_It is the thirtieth of March. Pilar is still in a coma. No noticeable changes in her health thus far._

This was all Sherlock wrote in a small notepad and tucked it into the pocket of his oversized trench coat. He sighed as he stared down at his frail best friend. Everyday, he visited the melancholy room labeled 451. Everyday, he was disappointed to find no progress.

It puzzled him that no one else had come to visit her.

\---

Sherlock was busy scribbling down a hopeless-sounding entry into his notepad for Day 36, when he heard a groan. Then he heard a girlish rasp say, "Someone get this damn circus out of my head before I tear my own fucking head off."

Always the picture of grace, Sherlock thinks as he laughs at Pilar's choice of words.

"Let me go get the doctor." He kisses her forehead and rushes out before she has a chance to respond.

Pilar blinked in shock as she wondered about the sudden kiss. Was it really that bad this time?

"Alright, Pilar." A young doctor walks in holding a clipboard in one arm and a pencil balanced behind an ear. Sherlock was close behind with concern written all over his face.

She sighs. "Loss of too much blood? " 

The doctor nodded with a look of desperation. "Yes, now please promise me you'll get help? This is the third time you've entered the hospital and that's just within the past two years. Just because there aren't any visible scars doesn't mean I don't know what's going and I refuse to lose my goddaughter."

Sherlock cocked an eyebrow in confusion, but she just shook her head and dismissed his silent question. "I promise." She agrees solemnly.

The doctor nods. "And I have just informed your mother, who happens to be here on a business trip."

Pilar groaned. "Aww shit, uncle Tony. I think I'm going back under." The two males scowl and she raised her hands defensively. "Okay, okay. I get it. That wasn't funny."

\---

**Sherlock's PoV**

A pale woman enters into the room stoically and my mind immediately picks up little details.

Business suit, not worth less than a few thousand. Newly manicured nails. Meticulously put-together appearance, not a single hair out of place. Back perfectly straight. Chin up slightly. Pursed lips. Disapproving gaze. Always steps in exactly the middle of the tiles on the hospital floor; makes it a point to avoid cracks.

"Pilar." The newcomer says, voice and face void of any emotion.

"Morgan." Pilar mirrors the woman.

"I was in a meeting."

"I was in a coma." Neither one of them changed their demeanor.

"Good morning."

"Funny."

The woman glances at me out of the corner of her eye. "Your boyfriend?"

"Yes." I answer before Pilar even has a chance to open her mouth. Pilar glances at me and then gives the woman a curt nod.

"He's not on my list."

"And you're not on mine."

"That tongue of yours will get you into trouble someday."

"And that vagina of yours will get you an STD...or has it already?"

The woman's expression darkens, but Pilar remains the same. "I have needs." The woman's voice strains to stay calm.

"Fucking people that aren't your husband isn't exactly a need." Pilar still hasn't changed anything since the beginning of the conversation, but I know better. Her muscles have become slightly more tense and her breathing has slowed by a fraction. There is a low glow of rage burning behind her eyes and I can see it slowly growing into a full-fledged forest fire.

"Screw you." The woman growls as her glare intensifies.

"I'd return the sentiment, but it seems half your clients already have." Pilar's cold facade begins to crack.

The woman makes a small threatening move towards Pilar's bed, but I quickly step in front of her. I easily tower over the tiny woman. "I think it's best you leave and don't ever show your face around my girlfriend again or you will regret it." She let's out a scoff before pivoting and storming out of the room, missing the middle of tiles as she does so.

I try to calm down and slow my breathing back to normal when I hear a small voice say, "Sherlock?" I turn back to find Pilar's arms reaching out to me and tears streaming down her face.

"Oh darling..." I breathe out and rush to her. I lift the blanket and she scoots over to make room for me. As soon as I drop the blanket over us she is curled into me. Her face is buried in my chest and her hands are gripping my shirt as her body shakes from the force of her sobs. My arms wrap themselves around her petite frame; one securely tightened around her waist and the other cradling her head. "It's okay, darling. I'm here. I will always be here." I whisper to her over and over until I feel her body still and her breathing is back to normal. I look down to find her eyes closed and a peaceful look resting on her face.

_Why is my chest aching so much right now?_


	5. Revelations

"Okay, I'm ready." Pilar says suddenly while she and Sherlock exit the hospital.

"Ready?"

"To talk."

"Why do you say that?" He asks as they board a nearly empty bus.

"You have questions."

"Yes, but they can wait until you are honestly ready to talk." He grabs her hand and places a kiss on her knuckles. He seems to have been a lot more touchy-feely since she's woken up.

"I am ready." She insists.

"No, you are not." He replies firmly. "You've just been released from the hospital and need to rest."

Pilar rolls her eyes. "Oh please...I've been asleep for over a month. I think that constitutes as plenty of rest."

The bus finally arrives at their stop. "It's still not okay to make jokes about what's happened and we will discuss this after I get you home." He agrees with a hint of strain in his tone.

\---

The two teens sit in silence in Pilar's living room. She sighs and gently takes his face in her hands. "I'm sorry." She says, her voice barely above a whisper. "I wish you never would've found out...or at least not like this."

"Why?" He forces the question past the lump in his throat.

"Why did I start or why do I continue?" She drops her hands and props her knees up under her chin, wrapping her arms around her legs.

"Both." He replies softly.

"Okay...Let's start from the beginning. Growing up, I always knew relationships weren't perfect. I never experienced the enchantment most little girls did when it came to fairy tales and romance. No matter how hard my dad tried to hide it from me, I witnessed too many fights between my parents."

"At first, it was just a few disagreements here and there that always seemed to be solved relatively quickly. Looking back now I realize nothing was resolved, simply pushed to the back burner by my dad for my sake."

"Anyways," She continued. "Soon those disagreements turned into full-blown screaming matches. Then over time they started arguing every single night."

Sherlock's eyebrows furrowed in concern. Pilar snorted humorlessly, "My mother wasn't only physically abusive to me, but she was damn good at fucking with my mind. She knew how to break me down so low that it'd be months before I could escape the darkest parts of my mind. She had no trouble manipulating me as easily as a puppet. It was this sick cycle I was constantly going through."

"I am not her child, but someone else's unwanted child that was left on their doorstep. I could never be enough for her. In fact, I was the worst thing that could have ever happened to her and was reminded of that every single day. I constantly felt like I was less than nothing."

She sighed. "I started cutting because I felt like it was the only way to feel something other than the hurt and confusion and self-hate that was driving me insane. As sick as it sounds, it feels good when you have physical pain to take away from your emotional pain. It's an escape from reality. No matter how temporary it is, it's a relief to escape all the pain."

"Well, finally my father had got a major wake up call when he found out that not only was she having multiple affairs, but that she was abusing me also. So they divorced and my father was granted custody of me. We became much happier and I haven't felt the urge to cut since then."

Sherlock grasped her hands with desperation. "But why now?" He asked, confusion taking form in his features.

Pilar smiled sadly at her concerned best friend. "When anything bad happens my first thought is to cut; it's become a natural reaction. It is horrible and I always fall back on it." 

"Please tell me what happened." He pleaded.

She gives him a sad smile as she wrapped a hand around her dog tags. "I actually restarted after moving here because I didn't move here due to a transfer for my father. I moved to live with uncle Tony." A single tear slid down her cheek, which was soon followed by an onslaught of heartbreaking sobs. It didn't take Sherlock long to realize that she had just told him her father was dead.

On instinct, Sherlock pulled her to him. He had always known that she wasn't alright. If he had just paid more attention, then maybe this wouldn't have happened. Then maybe his best friend wouldn't be hurting so much. If only he had done something earlier. If only he could do more now.

But all he could do was hold her.

\---

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes..." His mother said as soon as he walked through the door. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Yes, mother." He responds in exhaustion and begins making his way to his room.

"Hold it right there, young man." His father says sternly causing him to freeze mid-stride. "Into the living room." He obliges reluctantly.

When they are seated, his father sighs heavily. "What has been going on lately? You leave before the sun is up and come home after midnight. You're slacking off with your studies. It seems like you've hardly eaten. Whatever is going on, you need to let us know so we can help."

That last sentence pulls him from his exhausted state. "What if it's something I can't even understand?" Sherlock asks honestly.

His mother rushes to his side and takes his hands in hers. "Your father and I have years of life experience and knowledge. We may be able to help you understand."

He takes a deep breath before saying, "I...know this person and they make me feel...odd. Every time I'm with them everything seems right. I'm comfortable with them, but it's not...boring. When I see them hurting, all I want is to take on their pain for them. Oh, but when they smile!" Sherlock subconsciously smiles and lets out a breath. "It's so beautiful and it's just for me. They make me...sentimental, but even more so. I don't know how to explain it."

His parents smile broadly and his father stands and places a hand on his shoulder. "Son, " His father's voice booms with pride. "You're in love."

Sherlock slid down a bit in his seat as it all sank in. He was in love with Pilar and he was more than willing to accept it. He sure wouldn't mind being more than friends with her. He let out a heavy sigh. What if she didn't feel the same?


	6. I Would Die 4 U

Pilar thought back to the events that have occurred since she came out of her coma. It had been a few weeks since she had told Sherlock about her depression and the death of her father. Things seemed to be looking up.

The other students at school avoided her like the plague, though that could be because of Sherlock's menacing glares. He'd grown quite protective since she'd left the hospital. Well, whatever the reason was, she enjoyed no longer having to deal others at school. That just took too much energy.

Although school was peaceful for her, peace of mind was harder to come by. She still fell into the darker regions of her mind, yet Sherlock somehow seemed to be there every time to pull her out...with the help of a certified professional. It was illogical to think anyone (including her best friend) could simply hold her and tell her everything was alright and all of a sudden it was.

Stepping out of her steam-filled bathroom, Pilar hears two distinct knocks. Quickly (and securely) wrapping a towel around her body, she bounds down the stairs excitedly She throws open the door, knowing who exactly it was. "Good mornin', Sherlock." She smiles warmly.

Sherlock barely registered what she had just said. His mind was going haywire taking in every inch of her appearance. Her hair was damp and he thought back to the first day they were friends and how beautiful she looked in the rain. Her slender arms held the fabric in place while cradling her chest. Sherlock glanced at the exposed bit of cleavage before quickly diverting his attention elsewhere. The fluffy, white towel teasingly outlined the curves hidden underneath. The edge of the towel stopped just below her prominent rear, displaying her thick caramel-colored thighs and shapely calves. 

Pilar wasn't stick skinny like how the girls in their school strived to be. She was curvy and had some meat on her bones. She was the most beautiful person he had ever and would ever lay eyes on.

He began to wonder what it would be like to feel her skin against his, when she repeated his name. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sorry, it seems like I've come at an inconvenient time."

She waved off his apology. "Don't worry about it. Uncle Tony just left to the hospital, so it's nice not to be alone. You just sit in the kitchen while I put on some clothes and then I'll make us some breakfast."

Nodding his understanding, he takes a seat on a stool at her kitchen counter as she rushes back up the stairs. While he waits, he desperately tries to distract his mind from the sensuous image of Pilar innocently standing in nothing but her towel.

\---

Rolling her eyes as she smelled bacon cooking, Pilar leans against the counter next to the stove. "I believe I said I'd make us breakfast."

"I know, but I--" Sherlock practically chokes on the rest of his words when he turns to Pilar.

She is in what used to be a t-shirt, but large holes have been cut where the sleeves used to be, turning it into a tank top. This exposes just enough side boob to inform Sherlock of the fact that her breasts were perky and firm without the aid of a brassiere. Her thick thighs and shapely calves were on full display due to the shorts that covered her wide hips and voluptuous rear and ended mid-thigh.

There had been plenty of girls that tried to get his attention by wearing even more revealing clothes, yet this was the first time he had been affected like any other ordinary hormonal teenage boy. His face flushed with heat as he realized how much he wanted to be with his best friend.

Yes, he obviously found her attractive and sex would suddenly become an interest of his whenever she was around. But what he felt for this girl was well beyond basal urges.

He had already known he was in love with her. His parents had helped him understand that much. Now, he understood just what that meant. That he'd do anything and everything for her.

"Sherlock! The food is burning!" She yelled over the incessant beeping of the smoke detector as she removed the pan from the burner and began fanning away the smoke. Giving him an amused smile, she giggled and kissed a reddened cheek of his. "Thanks for trying though, hon." He felt his heart stutter at the term of endearment.

With this realization he knew he had to tell her how he felt.

\---

Pilar studied her fidgeting best friend curiously as they tried to watch a movie in her living room. What had gotten him worked up so suddenly? It was almost like he was nervous.

She almost laughed out loud when that thought crossed her mind. Sherlock Holmes, nervous? As if! He was the most confident and secure person she had ever come in contact with. Yet, all the signs were there.

Finally, she grabbed his hand and laid her cheek against his shoulder. He relaxed instantly, but she looked up at him with concern written all over her face.

"What's wrong, hon?"

Again his heart stuttered. Smiling warmly down at her, he kissed her forehead. "Don't worry, darling. I'll tell you after the movie."

Pilar nodded and reluctantly turned her attention to the movie, willing it to hurry and finish. Sherlock chuckled at her pouty expression and couldn't help but want to take her plump lower lip between his teeth.

When the movie was finally over, Pilar quickly sat up, her hand still holding firmly to Sherlock's. "Please talk to me." She pleaded, worry lacing her tone.

He gave her a small smile and, again, placed a soft kiss to her forehead. "You see, but you do not observe." He whispered as he rested his forehead against hers.

Pilar's heart pounded against her ribcage. Sure they were always giving innocent kisses to each other, but her heart would practically leap out of her chest whenever they touched even in the littlest way. She had fallen in love with the beautiful brainiac in front of her and she had fallen hard.

She bit her bottom lip nervously, causing Sherlock to groan, "You're killing me." Before she had the chance to question that statement, his lips were on hers.

Her eyes widened for a quick second before fluttering closed. Her mouth moved in sync with his as her heart soared with the knowledge of his feelings towards her.

Sherlock's desire heightened when he realized that his feelings were reciprocated. Gripping her waist, he easily maneuvered her so that she was straddling his lap. As he did so, Pilar's fingers tangled in his messy curls and tugged at them lightly, earning a moan from Sherlock.

Finally, they separated. Breathing heavily, Sherlock smiles widely at the flustered young woman on his lap. He closes his eyes and sighs in pure content.

"Hey." Pilar says softly, causing him to open his eyes and smile once more as he was met with her dilated, depthless pupils. "Guess what?" She whispers with a cheeky smile.

"What?" He whispers back, wounding his arms around her waist.

"I love you."

As soon as the words are past her lips, Sherlock begins planting quick kisses all over her face except her mouth. "I. Love. You. Too." He says excitedly between kisses as she giggles.

"I think you missed a spot." She giggles again and points to her lips.

"That can easily be remedied." He says before placing his lips over hers once more. This time their kiss was much more heated.

Sherlock ran his tongue along her bottom lip, begging for entrance. She teasingly refused, causing him to emit a deep primal growl that sent heat straight to her core. He squeezed her ass and, as she gasped, his tongue darted into her mouth. Their tongues danced sensuously with each other; exploring and tasting.

Pilar's hands went to work on Sherlock's shirt. Her fingers were jittery and fumbled with the first couple buttons, but soon worked smoothly on the others. Her hands slipped underneath his opened shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, dropping it carelessly to the floor. Her hands explored his body. The definition of it pleasantly surprised her as she was expecting the deceptively lanky teen to feel...bony.

His lips moved to her neck. A soft moan escaped Pilar's lips; her headed tilted back to give him better access. When his lips met the juncture between her neck and collar bone, Pilar let out a loud moan and retangled her fingers in his hair. Sherlock smirked at having found her soft spot quite quickly. He bit and sucked on the sensitive spot, ensuring that a dark love bite would mark her as his. She cries out his name and he moans, deciding that his name on her lips was his favorite sound.

Her lips brushed along his jaw. "I think we should move this to the bedroom." She whispered before tugging his earlobe with her teeth.

\---

Sherlock rolled next to Pilar and pulled her against his naked chest. They were both panting heavily.

He kissed her temple. "Thank you, love." He muttered.

Pilar looked up at him through her dark lashes. "For what, hon?"

"For being my first."

Her eyes widened. "Oh hon, I had no idea. I would've made it special had I known."

Sherlock placed a lingering kiss on her lips. "It was perfect, darling, because it was with you."

She smiles adoringly at him and pecks his jaw. "I love you."

"And I love you." Sherlock placed a kiss on the top of her head.

After few minutes in comfortable silence, Pilar speaks. "I'm still surprised that was you're first time. That was best I've ever had."

Sherlock chuckles. "I guess anatomy books do have their benefits."

"Definitely." She agrees eagerly, causing Sherlock to chuckle again.

"Well, I'm happy I was able to please you." He kissed the side of her head.

"Also, I usually like being in control, but letting you dominate me was the biggest turn on."

"But you would like to be on top next time, correct?"

"Yes, but I'll let you have your way with me after." She winks.

Sherlock groans. "Keep talking like that and I just may take you again right now."

Giggling, Pilar nuzzles into his neck. "Let me nap first and then we can go for more rounds."

"Sleep well, love." He said softly as they both drifted off to sleep.

\---

Sherlock stretched and quickly notices that Pilar isn't next to him. He pops up nervously only to see his clothes neatly folded on the end of the bed. He quickly changed and made his way downstairs. In the living room was Pilar in sweats and a t-shirt, dancing along to an upbeat song starting to play on her record player.

"What's this song?" He asks as he wraps his arms around her waist.

She smiles widely. " _I Would Die 4 U_ by Prince. It's my all time favorite song." She breaks from his hold and starts singing along as she performs choreography that he can tell she's done many times.

_I'm not a woman_  
_I'm not a man_  
_I am something that you'll never understand_

_I'll never beat u_  
_I'll never lie_  
_And if you're evil I'll forgive u by and by_

_U - I would die 4 u, yeah_  
_Darling if u want me t_ o  
_U - I would die 4 u_

_I'm not your lover_  
_I'm not your friend_  
_I am something that you'll never comprehend_

_No need to worry_  
_No need to cry_  
_I'm your messiah and you're the reason why_

_'Cause U - I would die 4 u, yeah_  
_Darling if u want me to_  
_U - I would die 4 u_

_You're just a sinner I am told_  
_Be your fire when you're cold_  
_Make u happy when you're sad_  
_Make u good when u are bad_

_I'm not a human_  
_I am a dove_  
_I'm your conscious_  
_I am love_  
_All I really need is to know that you believe_

_Yeah, I would die 4 u, yeah_  
_Darling if u want me to_  
_U - I would die 4 u_

_Yeah, say one more time_

_U - I would die 4 u_  
_Darling if u want me to_  
_U - I would die 4 u_  
_2 3 4 U_

_I would die 4 u_  
_I would die 4 u_  
_U - I would die 4 u_  
_U - I would die 4 u_

She finishes the choreography with jubilant laughs. She returns to his arms as "Baby I'm A Star" begins to play.

"I really love that man." She sighs.

Sherlock raises an eyebrow. "I'm sorry? Who?"

Pilar rolls her eyes. "Prince. He is the writer and performer of that song. It's from Purple Rain."

"Ohh...that does sound familiar. You've mentioned that movie before. It's your favorite, right?"

She nods with an impressed look on her face. "I'm surprised you remember that."

"Oh please, darling. You have your own wing in my mind palace."

"You are such a sweet talker." She smirks.

"Only for you."

"I know." She stands on her tiptoes as Sherlock leans down. She pauses just before their lips meet.

"Anything wrong, darling?" Sherlock's face filled with concern.

Pilar blushes. "Can we make that song our song?" She asks nervously.

He chuckles and pecks her lips. "Of course, love. I would most definitely be willing to die for you. Plus it's quite catchy."

"Thanks, dear." She smiles and returns her lips to his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been wanting to add a bit with 'I Would Die 4 U' and was expecting to add it much later. With the death of the legend, Prince, I added it much earlier in tribute to my favorite artist.  
> R.I.P. Prince :'(

**Author's Note:**

> I have started this on my Wattpad, but just felt like adding it on here as well.
> 
> Feedback is always welcome :)


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